


The One I Loved

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-08
Updated: 2008-09-08
Packaged: 2019-01-19 02:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12401226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: These are the thoughts of Hermione as she stands by Ron's grave on a cold winter day.This is my second story and it's quite short. So please, read and review!





	The One I Loved

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

The One I Loved By harry_ginny17

A/N This is just something that I thought of and did with in I think an hour and a half. So I hope you enjoy this. This is my second little story so please read and review!

 

Love and hate are so closely related that it’s hard to even describe. I had a love hate relationship with this guy who I’d known since 1st year, it was mostly love though. We used to sit in the common room doing our stack of homework that was assigned to us. Actually, it was more like I did the homework and he just copied. I found it to be more like a sweet compliment than him just not doing his homework. It was like a chocolate chip, sweet but not an over bearing sweetness. We also used to read The Daily Prophet together. That was one of my favorite things to do. I looked forward to that owl coming in and dropping the paper down to me so we could read the comics and laugh at them.  
Boy could he play chess. I don’t think I ever beat him. He was the champion of that game and everyone new it. He liked the idea of being unbeatable at something. He had a big ego sometimes. He also had lots of maroon sweaters. He got a new one each year hand knitted by his mother. He didn’t like those sweaters too much but I loved them. I loved them. I loved the way they hugged his body just right. The color on him was also perfect. His mother always new her way with colors.   
The things he said to try to agitate me, they often worked. They made me furious with him at the time but later while I was trying to fall asleep I often thought of what he said and smiled. I honestly couldn’t help but smile. He thought he finally understood what made me tick but he didn’t. He was way off.   
The way that boy smelled made me perk up. He came into the room and a waft of something sweet but not at all girly (if that makes any sense at all) captured the room like the smell of someone baking brownies in a little country house. When he came and sat next to me the smell got stronger and filled my body with a sense of warmth, I never new that a smell could do that to someone. Apparently it could.  
His smile was something else. It made me melt into a puddle. It wasn’t too big or small but just right. His teeth were nice and white and never crooked. Always straight and in line. He smiled a lot which was great. He also frowned a decent amount. He could become very quiet and to himself rather fast if you said the wrong thing to him. It was hard to get him to come out of that shell again. He tended to be stubborn.   
Watching him play Quidditch was like learning something new. Always exciting, never dull. He would fly around on his broom like he was professional just waiting for some action. All though I’m sad to say that he can never be compared to the works of his best friend when he’s on the Quidditch pitch. He could work wonders.  
But now here he lies under this cold, snowy ground with me looking down on him. A tombstone on top of him and flowers of bright reds and whites lying against it. He was a great man and the times that I spent with him were some of my greatest. Him and I became friends and new more about each other than I think we knew about our selves. He trusted me and I trusted him. I held his hand as he slipped away into the dark before me and I wept for weeks on end. I have now come to except the fact he is gone. I have also some to except the fact the I love big ego, stubborn, maroon wearing, sweet smelling, red headed guys, because I was in love with Ron Weasley and I always will be.


End file.
